The young of the species

The young of the species, be it human or other mammals, can be tremendous fun. The way they leap over imagined small hills and dance over objects that are not there. They have a joyful inquisitiveness as they explore their new world and anything is fair game.  This is the situation I found myself in when I was out sketching on the Northamptonshire/ Warwickshire border.  Searching out an inspirational landscape I found myself in the middle of a field that also contained two mares and their foals, and as it turned out the fair game was me. Foals can look quite comical in a geeky sort of way, with their heads that seem disproportionately too large for their bodies and a set of legs they still have yet to fully master.

Initially we were quite happy to ignore each other, respectfully letting each other do what we were doing, but the longer I was there the more inquisitive they got. It was the bolder of the two foals who was first to check me out, edging closer, stopping, having a good look then edging closer again. When it was a necks length away it stopped, had a sniff then had a good look out of one eye and then the other. Having decided I was no threat it decided it was play time.  The other foal on seeing everything was fine got over any initial reservations and decided to join in. They both then proceeded over the next fifteen to twenty minutes or so to try and eat me, my sketch pad and my pencil. Needless to say having two foals standing in front of you blocks the view somewhat and the mums weren’t too fussed and seemed quite happy that someone else was running the kindergarten and keeping the kids amused.  Polite invitations to bugger off were not yet part of their vocabulary so a gentle shove to clear the view seemed the best thing to do. Wrong… now it was going to get physical.

They then proceeded to push me over, use me as a scratching post and as they say in rugby parlance ‘formed several loose rucks’. Having the backside of a horse in your face could be dangerous, after all it could be loaded and at any time a deposit could be made. Perhaps it was a critical gesture to the quality of the sketch I was working on. Was the foal a fan of Chris Ofili’s work and just wanted to get in on the act, or perhaps it wanted me to take it home and can it a là Piero Manzoi.  Sometimes in these situations you need to work on the basis that they are going to get tired out before you, and this was the situation when they finally decided to curtail play time and go for a bit of lunch from the milk bar, followed by a snooze out of the midday sun under the shade of a nearby tree.

By this stage I was on the next sketch working on the basis that when the juvenile delinquents woke up my novelty would have worn off. Needless to say I was wrong and round two commenced, which if I am being honest I was kind of hoping for.